Never Was
by SPNWizard
Summary: INFINITY WAR SPOILERS! Tony's having trouble coping with the aftermath of this war. But the fight isn't over yet. It never seems to be; Peter wakes up in a strange place where superheroes never existed, remembering nothing about his past life. Plagued by the feeling of something being off, Peter dives deeper into the world's strange past and finds himself in some deep trouble.
1. Prologue

**Hey guys! It's been awhile since I've posted anything Avengers, and after seeing Infinity War, I couldn't help myself. Now, before I say anything else... I will warn readers one more time:**

 _ **INFINITY WAR MAJOR SPOILERS AHEAD!**_

 **That being said, I really don't want people lashing at me about spoiling the film for them. You have been warned.**

 **Here's the full synopsis:**

 _ **Tony didn't know what was happening anymore. He didn't know what to believe. After Titan... he was having trouble coping. He had lost so much... they all had. How much are they willing to sacrifice if it meant they could make things right?**_

 _ **Peter woke up in a strange place that doesn't feel quite right. He has a normal life, his dream job... However, there was this nagging feeling that he was missing something obvious. When Peter stars to dig a little deeper into this strange world's past, he is mysteriously attacked and things go downhill from there. Seeking out answers that may lead him to a life he had lost, Peter tries to make sense of this strange situation he's gotten himself into.**_

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

Tony didn't know how much time had passed as he knelt on the ground. It could've been minutes, hours... but to him, it felt like eternity. He probably should've been more worried about how he was going to get off the damn planet or what he was going to do about his abdomen stab wound that was burning like hell, but he couldn't stop staring. Tony just looked down at the ground where the kid had been, his last words still ringing in the billionaire's ears.

 _I don't wanna go, Mr. Stark, please..._

If anyone had asked what exactly Tony was feeling at the moment, he wasn't entirely sure he could explain it. There were mixed emotions, but there was mostly guilt. He should've tried harder to keep the kid back on Earth... he should've tried harder to protect him... Now Peter was gone and the only thing left of him is the ashes that were embedding themselves in his hands.

There was also anger. Angry at the kid for not listening to him. Angry at himself for letting something like this happen in the first place. Angry at Strange for giving up the Time stone to save Tony... the sorcerer should've just let the billionaire die. He should've been the one to go, not Peter... not Strange, not Drax, not Star Lord... He should've been the one to die. Maybe then they would've had another chance to fight...

 _It was the only way..._

Strange's last words confused the hell out of him, but it made his anger spark even more just thinking about it. Why did it have to be him? Why does it always seem to be Tony that has to be the one to deal with all the emotional baggage? Why couldn't it be someone else for a change?

Not that any of that mattered now, though. They lost. It was just him and some blue android alien that he didn't even know the name of. It was over for him either way. The ship was broken, there was no escaping this desert-like planet. Whatever Strange had sacrificed, it was all for nothing.

"Are you going to sit there all day?" The alien demanded. "Or are you going to get off your depressed ass and give me a hand?"

Tony didn't move from the ground, still shocked into silence.

"We need to get off this planet, and we need to get your wound looked at," The alien continued.

Tony gritted his teeth. "What's the point?"

"You said you have friends on Earth. We'll need their help to defeat Thanos." The Alien stated.

The thought pained Tony. Was there even any of the Avengers left on Earth? Or did they all disappear too?

"We've lost already," Tony stated.

"Maybe," The alien agreed. "But I'm not going down without a fight. Now you can either sit here and wallow in grief, or you can get off your ass and actually fight back. He killed my sister. You're not the only one who has lost someone."

With all that said, the alien stalked off and left him alone.

* * *

Tony didn't remember much after that. He remembered feeling drowsy and feverish, but he never once left the spot where Peter had disappeared. He couldn't bring himself to.

However, he must've blacked out at one point because the next thing he knew, he wasn't on Titan's surface anymore. No, when he came around, he found himself lying on a table with a towel wrapped around his abdomen. When he tried to sit up, he felt a searing wave of pain and he lost consciousness once more.

* * *

The next thing that Tony was aware of was the bumpy movement of a ship landing on solid ground. He felt a hand on his shoulder and Tony's eyes snapped awake.

He tried to shoot into a sitting position, but a firm, cold hand held his shoulder down. "Easy, human. You're home."

"Why didn't you just leave me to die?" Tony asked, his voice weak.

"Because you heard the magic man. He said it had to be this way," The cyborg stated.

"He acted out of cowardice," Tony shook his head.

"You're an arrogant ass," The alien shook her head. "Now, I'm not carrying you out of this ship, so you better get to your feet."

Tony grumbled something about pushy aliens who were a pain in the ass before painfully getting to his feet. He felt his knees buckle when he made contact on the ground.

"The infection is worse than I feared," The alien sighed.

"Tech should've taken care of it," Tony frowned, his eyesight getting hazy.

"Not this time," The alien said as she took his arm and threw it over her shoulder. "I so do not have patience for this. Walk."

"You're bossy," Tony's words were becoming slurred, his eyes beginning to close on their own accord.

Something slapped his cheek and his eyes flew open.

"What the hell was that for?" Tony demanded, not wide awake in the slightest, just pissed off.

"I told you I'm not carrying your heavy ass," The alien glared at him with chilling black eyes. "You can pass out when I hand you to your friends."

"How did you even know where they would be?" Tony wondered.

The alien didn't have time to answer before Tony felt a wave of fatigue wash over him and he passed out once more.

* * *

Tony hated passing out. Considering he spent the last who knows how many hours unconscious, he was beginning to wonder if he was losing his mind. He lost his luck, so what was next?

When he came around, he felt much more awake, but sore as hell. There was a steady beeping from a machine nearby and there was a tube in his nose that was feeding him fresh oxygen. The next thing he was aware of was the fact that he was shirtless. That was enough to cause him to shoot into a sitting position, immediately regretting the action as a wave of soreness washed over his tender abdomen.

He let out a groan in pain as he lowered himself back down onto his elbows.

"Mr. Stark! You're awake!" A female voice came from the doorway. "And you're sitting up I see. That's good news."

Tony turned his head to see a dark skinned woman walking towards him. She looked familiar, as if she reminded him of someone.

"Where am I?" He asked.

"You're in Wakanda," The girl replied with a thick accent. "The cyborg by the name of Nebula landed her ship just outside the city. We had received a distress call from her hours prior. When I saw you were injured, I took you here right away. The others will be rather relieved to know you're awake."

"Others?"

"The survivors," The girl clarified. "Natasha Romanoff, Bruce Banner, James Rhodes, Thor, and Steve Rogers."

It took a moment to realize what the woman had just said and he felt ashamed at the wave of relief that washed over him. So he wasn't entirely alone. He still had some family he came back to.

"Are they all okay?" Tony asked.

"Physically fine, but I believe we're all grieving," The girl replied sadly.

"Forgive me for asking, but, I didn't get your name?" Tony sheepishly inquired.

The girl smiled understandingly. "Shuri." She cleared her throat. "The others are upstairs if you wish to see them. Just take it easy. Your stab wound still needs time to heal."

Tony just nodded. "Um... Can I get some clothes?"

* * *

 **Just a new story idea I'm trying out. However, I will say two things:**

 **1\. This story does not follow the comics at all, it's just a story idea that's been on my mind ever since I was discussing the film with a few friends.**

 **2\. If there's enough demand I'll make more chapters :-) I just wanna see if this is something people will read.**

 **With that said... Was it good? Was it bad? Feel free to let me know!**

 **P.S. Title is bound to change. If anyone has good title ideas let me know! I've been kinda blanking on what to name this one :P**


	2. Chapter 1

**Alright, first chapter of Peter's POV! Enjoy!**

* * *

 ** _Dimension: Unkown._**

 ** _Location: Queens, New York_**

* * *

If Peter had a choice, he wouldn't have gotten up that morning. If he had a choice, he happily would've stayed in bed where it was warm and comforting. Sadly, that was just something that wasn't going to happen.

Peter woke up that morning from a knock on his bedroom door.

"Peter, wake up! You're going to be late for your first day at work!" His mother's voice carried through the door.

Peter groaned, wrapping a pillow around his head.

Another knock. "Peter, sweetie! I've already got breakfast on the table! You have to be out the door in fifteen minutes if you want to be there on time!"

Peter let out another groan before he called back, "I'm awake!"

"Then hurry up and get out here!" His mother sounded amused, but the receding footsteps indicated that she left him to his own accord.

Getting out of bed was a lot harder than Peter thought it was going to be. His legs just didn't want to cooperate with him. When he swung his feet over the side of the mattress, he felt his legs turn to jelly and he had to clutch the bedpost until they got their bearing. When he could walk in a straight line, he headed towards his dresser. He proceeded to throw on a suit before he walked into the kitchen where his mother was sitting at the table with a cup of coffee in her hand and a magazine in another.

"Did Dad already leave?" Peter asked.

"Yes, he said he was sorry he missed you," His mother smiled sadly. "Did you forget to set your alarm last night."

Peter frowned, scratching his head as he tried and failed to remember what had happened the night before. "I don't know," He confessed. "I guess so."

"Did you sneak out last night?" His mother's eyes grew narrow. "You went partying last night, didn't you?"

"What? No!" Peter was taken aback by his mother's sudden mood change.

She huffed in approval, "Good. Now eat your breakfast and head out."

Peter walked to the table, scarfed down some eggs and sausage before grabbing his bag and heading towards the door.

"Don't forget this," His mother handed him a jacket. "It's supposed to get cold this afternoon."

Peter accepted the jacket and smiled at his mother, "Thanks."

"Now, go have a good day at work," She smiled proudly at her son. "I want to hear all about it when you get home tonight."

"I'll try," Peter promised.

"Now, shoo, you're gonna be almost late as it is," She urged him out of the door.

Peter just laughed before walking towards the apartment complex's elevators.

* * *

The streets of Queens, New York was surprisingly pleasant as Peter made his way towards Oscorp Industries for his first day of work. He was nervous to say the least, seeing how he's been determined to obtain the job in the first place. He just didn't want to be let down if he found out that the job just wasn't for him. He's spent his entire high school career training to work there. It was one of the most competitive employments, but Peter was so excited when he recieved the news that he had been hired.

However, as he started to approach the building, he was beginning to second guess himself. Was this job really for him? What happened if he wasn't cut out for this? What happened if he got fired on the first day? Would his mother and father be disappointed in him? Would they forgive him if he messed up?

Peter shook his head. _Stop thinking like that. It hasn't happened yet._

Swallowing his anxiousness, Peter walked inside the building, only to run into a man with a white lab coat, knocking the papers out of the employee's hands.

"Oh my god!" Peter gasped, absolutely horrified. He bent down quickly to help pick up the papers. "I'm so sorry sir! I didn't see you! I should've been paying more attention as to where I was going..." He stood up and offered the papers to the employee

The man laughed lightheartedly as he accepted the papers, "It's quite alright. I've seen nerves like this many times before. After all, I was that person a long time ago. You must be the new recruit, I presume?"

Peter held out his hand, "Peter Parker."

"Well, Mr. Parker," The man shook his hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you. The name's Norman Osborn, I'm the CEO around here. I've heard a lot about you from your father. He speaks quite highly of you."

Peter found himself blushing, "He likes to exaggerate."

"I'm guessing he wasn't exaggerating you being modest," Norman observed. "Your lab's up on the thirtieth floor. I'll have some errands for you to run and then you can feel free to get to work. If you have any questions feel free to reach me in my office."

"Thank you, sir," Peter nodded.

Without another word, Norman walked off and Peter, who let out a sigh of relief, headed towards the elevators.

* * *

By the time Peter's lunch break came around, he was starving. With the promise to be back in his office in three hour's time, Peter made his way to the cafe down the street. When he saw the face he was looking for, he burst into a smile.

"MJ!" He called out as he approached her.

A moderately dark-skinned woman with dark curly locks looked up from her phone and smiled when she saw him.

"How you doing there, Pete?" She smirked as she fist-bumped him.

"I'm doing pretty good," Peter laughed.

"Come on, let's go grab a seat and then I want to hear all about your work day," MJ said as she led him towards the entrance.

"It's not over yet," Peter reminded her.

"And why does that matter?" MJ asked.

A few minutes later they were seated and Peter told her of his new job so far.

"Sounds boring," MJ took a sip of her soda.

"And that's supposed to make me feel better?" Peter raised an eyebrow at her. "I just need so start on some of my own projects and then things will pick up."

"If you say so," MJ shrugged. "I've never really been into the science gig."

"And yet you put up with me why?"

"Because you're dorky, but it suits you," MJ stated.

"Why, thank you, I guess?" Peter didn't know whether to be complimented or insulted.

"It was a compliment, by the way," MJ read his mind.

Peter cleared his throat and changed the subject. "Can I ask you a dumb question?"

"Considering you do that twelve times a day, sure," MJ teased.

"Do you happen to know what I did last night?" Peter asked.

MJ frowned, "Why do you not know what happened to you last night? Are you drinking again, Pete? Look, I know with Ned being gone..."

Peter felt an unexpected wave of mixed emotions slap him in the face, but he willed himself to push it down. "It's not about Ned."

"Somehow I doubt that," MJ crossed her arms. "You know I'm here, Pete. When did you start drinking again?"

"I haven't been drinking!" Peter objected. _Why does everyone think I'm an alcoholic?_

"Do you promise to tell me if you have been?" MJ asked.

"If it makes you feel better, then yes," Peter sighed.

"Good," MJ took another sip of her soda. "You've been down that road once before, Peter. I know you don't want to travel down it again."

Those words sent an unexpected shiver down Peter's spine, for reasons he does not know, but he decided to ignore it. Instead, he kicked back and enjoyed his lunch talking to his best friend.

* * *

 **First thing first.** **I'll say this just in case anyone is confused. Peter isn't necessarily "on Earth". By that I mean that he's in a different reality. One where superheroes don't exist, and his whole life is different. Hence why his parents are alive. Yes, I know they are dead in the comics, but they're "alive" right now just for the purpose of the story. That purpose you will see later on. Things will also expand and make more sense later on in the story.**

 **This is the beginning of the story, and yes its a little slow, but I'm trying to experiment with how this is going to go, so I hope you bear with me. Also, yes the writing is a bit stiff, but it's gonna take me a few chapters until I can get into the mindset of the characters. It will get better :-)**

 **Second,** **I want your opinion. Should I switch POVs every chapter or should I make a few chapters about Peter's POV and then a few chapters about Tony's POV?**

 **Title name is subject to change. If anyone has any ideas, feel free to let me know!**

 **Was it good? Was it bad? Feel free to let me know!**


	3. Chapter 2

**The support they you're giving this story truly is touching. You guys are amazing. Thank you so much for the lovely reviews!**

 **I've gotten a few questions about the different reality and I'll answer them right now :-)**

 **Yes, Peter is older in the different reality. He's just graduated from high school. Sorry, I should've mentioned that.**

 **No, Tony's not okay :P**

 **Yes, the other Avengers will play a role in this story.**

 **Alright, enough said, let's get going!**

* * *

 _ **Dimension: MCU (Yes, I know that's cheesy, but it works :P)**_

 _ **Location: Wakanda**_

* * *

As soon as Tony had acquired a shirt, he threw it over his head and walked out of the lab. It wasn't that Shuri had been nothing but nice to him that bothered him the most, it was just being around people in general. When Tony was in the presence of other people, he felt like they could see through the facade he would put up. He felt like they were judging him under observant eyes and it made him extremely uncomfortable. He didn't do emotions, he wasn't that kind of sap. It just wasn't the way he was raised.

The last thing he wanted at the moment though, was to face his team. He wasn't ready for the awkward tension that was no doubt to be sitting on his shoulders like a taunting beacon. He didn't want to have to deal with the fact that Steve Rogers would be there to lecture him on the kid getting killed on his watch. Tony was already well aware of that fact, thank you very much, he didn't need someone else rubbing it in his face.

Yes, Tony knew he was being selfish. He wasn't the only one who had lost a friend. Hell, Peter wasn't the only friend he lost. There was Pepper and Happy and Wanda and Vision... He lost too much and he really didn't want to face the reality that those people weren't going to be there when he walked into the room where the rest of the Avengers were gathered around.

So, instead, Tony went to his sleeping quarters and locked himself inside. If the others sought him out, then at least Tony had the old-fashioned lock system to keep them out. It wasn't much, but Tony would take that small piece of comfort at the moment.

Looking around the room, Tony took in his surroundings. The room was smaller than his own at the compound, which was something that Tony actually found comforting at the moment. It was the first small piece of shelter that he has had since he returned from Titan. Anything was better than an expansive environment that stretched on for hundreds of thousands of miles. It was better than the steaming hot weather that roasted his skin, better than the sand that was now mixed with the ashes of the fallen.

 _Dammit,_ Tony cursed as he berated himself for bringing up the thought again.

Walking over to the window, Tony surveyed the view before him. He could see the edges of the kingdom being surrounded by townsfolk who were setting up a memorial service, while other palace workers were gathering the bodies of the dead in preparation of burning them in a funeral-sort of service. What made Tony sick, however, was the amount of ash that littered the battlefield. Maybe it was his imagination, maybe it wasn't, but seeing all the gray made him want to throw up.

Just like that, his mind shifted back to Titan.

At the time, Tony thought that things couldn't have gotten worse in such a short amount of time. The billionaire had thought that it would've taken hours before Thanos began to wreck havoc on the entire universe. However, at a snap of the villain's fingers, people began disappearing. There was Mantis and then Drax and then Quill and then Strange and then... Peter.

Tony mentally cursed himself as he felt a few tears escape. The damn kid should've listened to him when he said to stay in New York. Then again, would that have really changed anything? If Peter was back in New York, would he still have faded away to nothing but ash?

Then there was the anger at Strange. If that damn doctor had just protected the damn time stone like he was supposed to, then there might've still been a chance that they would've won. Yes, Tony would've died, but he didn't give a damn about himself anymore. Throughout his whole superhero career, he has given everything he had, and every time there was always a way that life stabbed him in the back. He was so tired of the emotional baggage, he was so damn tired of being someone who was chosen to clean up the mess left behind. He was so done with everything. Tony had _wanted_ to die when Thanos stabbed him. It might've been the coward's way out, but Tony was just so damn done that he really didn't care anymore.

Then again, nothing was that easy. Even if he had died and Strange had not exchanged the time stone to spare Tony's life, it might've just been delaying the inevitable. Maybe they were meant to lose. Maybe this was a lesson to them all. A lesson that nothing is safe and that no one can protect them from enemies with powers enough to destroy the human race. The Avengers have been meddling with things that they know nothing about for a long time. Tony just guessed that their luck finally ran out.

They had to find a way to fix this. They owe their deceased that much. How they were going to do that was beyond Tony's knowledge at the moment.

In the meantime, there was something Tony could do. It was something that he did best.

Walking over to the wall mirror attached to the bathroom door, Tony pressed his Arc Reactor, not surprised when the damned thing sparked and the light flickered.

Tony cursed out a purple titan, using a few choice words that would make Steve Rogers cringe. The good news, the Arc Reactor wasn't necessary for Tony to survive. It was just an integral part of his new suit. The bad news... well, without the reactor functioning, Tony was without his Iron Man suit. To him, that made him feel a little bit too vulnerable for his liking.

He pressed the technology again, and the reactor sparked once more, causing his shirt to flame at the tips of the device.

"Shit!" Tony cursed, taking the shirt off in a hurry and stomping on it as the small flames went out.

"I'm guessing that wasn't supposed to happen?" A voice in the doorway had Tony spinning around, holding his hand up instinctively, as if he were about to blast someone with his repulsor.

Bruce held up his hands in defense, "Whoa, good guy here."

Tony, breathing heavily, lowered his arms. "Sorry," He mumbled, turning back to the mirror.

"You definitely look much better," The doctor observed as he walked into the room.

"The door was locked for a reason," Tony stated, not entirely annoyed, but still on guard.

"And there was a reason I learned to pick locks," Bruce came to stand next to him, his arms crossed.

"Didn't take you for the criminal type," Tony couldn't help the smirk that formed on his lips.

"No, it's nothing like that," Bruce chuckled as he scratched the back of his neck sheepishly. "I'd always forget the key to my house when I was younger. I'd pick the lock to get inside."

Tony just raised an eyebrow at Bruce's reflection, but didn't say anything else.

There was a brief moment of silence before Bruce spoke up, "How you holding up?"

Tony was fiddling with the edges of the Arc Reactor, getting ready to remove it. "I'm a big boy, Bruce, I'll be fine." The Arc Reactor slipped free with a click.

Bruce's eyes widened, "Are you insane? What the hell are you thinking?"

Tony laughed, "Relax, Brucie, this thing doesn't run my heart anymore. I just need it for my suit."

Bruce relaxed and a blush crept up the side of his neck, "Oh."

Tony just waved it off and walked over to his desk, setting the mechanism on table and sitting down in the chair. He turned on the desk lamp and aimed it down on the Arc Reactor.

"So why put it on if you don't need it?" Bruce wondered. "Couldn't you have just formed a watch or something to take the place of the reactor?"

"My suits run on the Arc Reactor," Tony simply stated.

"You know that you can put the reactor in a form of anything that doesn't go on your chest," Bruce pointed out.

"By having the reactor on my chest, it's more efficient when it assembles," Tony shrugged.

"And now you're making excuses," Bruce chuckled. "I know you, Tony. You weren't ready to say goodbye to the reactor when you got it out."

Tony frowned, "What makes you say that?"

"I just mean... well, after your surgery it was easy to see that you just never really adjusted to not having the reactor."

"Yeah, well... it's a cool accessory," Tony replied, leaning forward to examine the device more closely.

Bruce just shook his head, letting the subject matter die. Instead, he said, "What happened?"

"What do you mean?" Tony really wished his friend hadn't brought this subject up. He was so not ready for it.

"I mean when you went on that spaceship, Tony. It's like you and that spider guy disappeared."

"We went to go save Doctor Strange," Tony replied, trying to steer the conversation away from where it was heading.

"But only you came back," Bruce said.

Tony swallowed against the lump forming in his throat and knew he was losing the battle. "Look, Bruce, this thing's totally fried. I'm gonna head down the Shuri's lab and see if she's got a few tools to spare."

Tony didn't wait to hear his friend's response. Instead, he got up and left the room, leaving an exasperated Bruce behind.

* * *

 **Not entirely sure what my updating schedule will be like. Exams are coming up soon so I'll end up taking a break sometime for a few weeks.**

 **Anyways...**

 **Was it good? Was it bad? Feel free to let me know!**


	4. Chapter 3

**_Dimension: Unknown_**

 ** _Location: Queens, New York_**

* * *

 _"Aunt May, I'm home," Peter called out at he walked through the front door of the apartment._

 _"I'm in the kitchen!" May called back._

 _Peter made his way towards the kitchen, taking in the smell of fried chicken and rice._

 _"It smells so good," Peter sighed in happiness. "I'm starving."_

 _"Aren't you always?" May laughed. "How did the internship go?"_

 _"It went amazing! Mr. Stark gave me a tour of Stark Industries and he even showed me his lab! Can you believe that? Like you have no idea what kind of dream come true that was," Peter began._

 _"I don't know how I feel about you being in his lab," May set down the spoon she was holding and turned around, a conflicted look on her face. "You could get hurt."_

 _Peter chuckled, "I'm not a kid anymore, Aunt May. Trust me, I know what I'm doing."_

 _May smiled, "I'll take your word for it. Now go get cleaned up, dinner will be ready in twenty minutes."_

* * *

Peter woke with a sharp intake of breath, sitting straight up with his hand against his racing heart. He felt a pang of sadness for reasons he doesn't know, but he wondered why on earth he dreamed what he had. He's never seen that woman before in his life, at least not of what he could remember. He never even knew he had an Aunt May to begin with. Was she a dead relative that he randomly dreamed about?

Peter shook his head, trying to clear his racing thoughts.

Not a moment later, a knock sounded at his door just as his alarm clock went off.

Peter groaned tiredly and hit the snooze button on his alarm as his mother called through the door, "Breakfast is on the table, Pete."

"I'll be out in a few minutes," Peter replied.

Getting out of bed, Peter went straight to the bathroom. Taking a quick shower, Peter got dressed within the next ten minutes. Staring at his reflection in the foggy mirror, Peter's mind drifted back to his dream.

It didn't make sense. Peter never had an internship in high school. Hell, he barely got by with a part-time job he managed to acquire at some pizza place. He had wished that he had an internship, it would've definitely made his high school experience a little less of a living nightmare.

Also, who was Mr. Stark? And why did he show Peter his lab? What was there to see? Was he some mad scientist? Was he someone who was trying to recruit Peter for scientific reasons?

Peter shook his head once more, reminding himself that it was just a dream and nothing like that ever happened. He wasn't lucky enough to have something like that happen to him.

Walking into the kitchen, Peter caught the scent of bacon and eggs, causing his stomach to let out a loud growl.

"Sounds like you're hungry," His mother laughed. She was already seated at the table, sipping her coffee as she scrolled through something on her phone.

"You have no idea," Peter replied, sitting down across from his mother and practically devouring his breakfast.

"Slow down before you choke," Mary chuckled. "The food isn't going anywhere."

"It is going somewhere," Peter stated, his mouth full of food. "It's going to my stomach."

Mary Parker just shook her head, a smile on her face. "What's your plan today?"

"Well, I'll be at work from ten to three today, and then I'm meeting with MJ for lunch," Peter told his mother.

"She's a nice girl," Mary mused. "Have you given any though to asking her out?"

Peter choked on his eggs. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me," Mary looked amused.

"Mom, it isn't like that! She's just my friend," Peter objected.

"I said the same thing about your father once," Mary said.

"This isn't like that though," Peter shook his head. "MJ is just a friend, she's like a sister to me. I don't think of her in that way."

"And what about her?"

"What about her?"

"How does she feel about you?" Mary asked.

"That doesn't matter," Peter replied. "MJ doesn't do relationships. She doesn't like the commitment."

"Are you sure about that?" Mary raised an eyebrow at her son.

Peter felt a blush creeping up his cheeks. "Mom, it's not going to happen, alright? Please, just let it go."

"You know, you're getting to be an adult now, Peter," Mary reminded her son.

"I'm nineteen," Peter exclaimed, the blush deepening on his face.

"Exactly. You're on your way to becoming a young adult," Mary said.

"Please, just can we not talk about this right now? I'm not looking to expand my sex life," Peter really wanted to change the subject.

Mary just shrugged, "Alright. Well, you can't say I didn't try."

They fell into silence for a few minutes as Peter just pushed his food around his plate, a thought nagging him.

"Hey, Mom, can I ask you a question?" Peter broke the silence, hesitance in his voice.

Mary put her phone down on the table, "Of course."

"Who is Aunt May?" Peter asked.

"Who?" Mary frowned.

"You know... My aunt? May?" Peter didn't like the confusion forming on his mother's face.

"Peter, there is no Aunt May, let alone any sisters on your father's side of the family nor on my side of the family," Mary broke it to him.

 _Then why did I dream that I had an aunt?_ Peter wondered.

"Oh," Peter looked down at the plate before him, avoiding his mother's concerned gaze.

"What brought this up, Peter?" Mary asked in a gentle tone.

"Nothing... it's just... nothing," Peter got up from his chair. "Forget it." He walked over to the coat rack, grabbed his jacket and said, "I have to go before I'm late for work."

"Okay, well, I'll see you tonight, sweetie," Mary got up to hug her son.

Without another word, Peter walked out the door, exited the apartment complex and welcomed the fresh air of the morning air.

* * *

Peter couldn't focus all afternoon. He was supposed to be doing some trial tests for Mr. Osborn, but he could not stop thinking about the dream that he had. Why would he dream that he had an aunt if there was no aunt in the first place? Why did he seem so comfortable with her? Why was he living with her? It was strange, to say the least, if not a little bit troubling.

When three o'clock came around, Peter officially accomplished nothing during his work day. He'd just have to put something together tomorrow before Mr. Osborn asked where the results were.

Walking up towards the cafe he was meeting MJ at, Peter was debating whether or not to tell her of his strange predicament. Would MJ think Peter had lost his mind? Or that he was being silly for worrying about something that was probably nothing?

Shaking his head, Peter cleared his thoughts and plastered a fake smile on his face as he approached the cafe, walking towards MJ, who was waiting for him by the door.

"You look exhausted," MJ noted as they sat down at an outside table.

"Thanks, I guess?" Peter replied.

"Not to mention that you look like crap," MJ continued.

"Wow, you sure know how to make a guy feel special," Peter grumbled.

"And you're also in a grumpy mood, that's just a perfect combination," MJ finished.

"Do I really look that bad?" Peter frowned.

"Nah, I'm just kidding," MJ smirked. "Although, I'm serious. You look like something's bugging you in that head of yours. Bad day at work?"

"Not necessarily," Peter shrugged. "Just kinda having an off day."

"I can see that," MJ nodded. "You didn't bother to brush your hair this morning, or put on any deodorant for that matter. No offense, Pete, but you stink like hell."

Peter groaned, "God dammit, I knew I forgot to do something before leaving the house!"

"I can tell," MJ laughed. "Now, seriously, Peter, what's going on in that head of yours?"

Peter hesitated for a moment, debating whether or not to spill the beans. Finally, his shoulders slumped and he said, "I just had a weird dream last night that's been bugging me."

"What was the dream about?" MJ asked, inviting him to share if he wanted to.

"Oh, you know, dreaming about aunts that don't exist," Peter shrugged, but he felt another pang of sadness in his heart. He pushed the feeling down, still not knowing why he was feeling that way.

MJ frowned, "Come again?"

Peter sighed, "I said I dreamed I was living with my apparently non-existent aunt."

MJ just blinked for a moment. "Wow, you're losing your mind,"

Peter rolled his eyes. "Thank you, that makes me feel so much better."

MJ studied him for a moment. "You're freaking out about this."

"Of course I'm freaking out about this! Where the hell did that dream come from? I never even thought about having an aunt! Now I dream of a non-existent one? Why was I living with her? Where were my parents? Why on earth was I talking about having an internship? It doesn't make any sense whatsoever!" Peter's voice was becoming hysterical.

MJ held her hands out in a calming gesture, "Whoa, Pete, just breath. We all have wacky dreams, alright? It was probably nothing. I dream about non-existent people all the time."

"Really?"

"No, I don't," MJ replied.

"Now you're just being mean," Peter shook his head.

"I'm being a good friend," MJ objected.

"If teasing your friend about freaky dreams is being a good friend, then sure," Peter remarked, but there was amusement in his voice.

MJ's face grew serious. "I mean it though, Pete. It was probably some random dream that means nothing. I wouldn't worry about it too much."

"Then why does something feel entirely wrong?" Peter asked.

"Because there's always something wrong with you Pete," MJ joked.

"Oh, I hate you," Peter chuckled.

"You can try all you want, but somehow I doubt you capable of hating me," MJ smirked.

Peter felt a smile creep onto his face on its own accord. "Shut up."

* * *

 **You know, I have exams this week that I really should be studying for, but I can't get this story off my mind. I'm already so anxious to get to the action part of this story.**

 **Anyways, Was it good? Was it bad? Feel free to let me know!**


	5. Chapter 4

_**Dimension: MCU**_

 _ **Location: Wakanda**_

* * *

Tony was practically ecstatic when Shuri gave him a small part of her lab to work in. It was a private sector that was just a level below the main lab where the younger genius worked. She had told Tony that she would've thought he'd like it better if he worked alone with nothing to distract him. Seeing that he preferred to be alone at the moment, Tony kindly accepted the offer and headed down to the lower lab to get to work.

The lab was smaller than the one that Tony had back at the compound in New York, but it was still a warm and comforting environment. Also, it strangely felt like he was home. Tony always found himself coping with difficult things by working his ass off. He found that if he kept himself busy, it was easy to keep his mind off more pressing matters. It was his way of escaping uncomfortable situations that loom over him twenty-four seven. Why do you think he tinkered with his suits so much after New York? It was his way of keeping his mind off the image of him not returning from flying the nuke into outer space that plagued his nightmares. It kept him awake and alert, just in case the world needed him once more. However, it was mainly just his way of escaping his problems. Was it an unhealthy way to deal with traumatic experiences? Maybe. Did Tony give a damn? Not really.

So as he bent over the center lab table, using a few screw drivers and other tools to get into the Arc Reactor's wiring, he got to work.

He spent the next few hours hunched over that same table, ignoring the pain that was forming in the center of his back and the muscles tensing around his abdomen where his wound was still healing. He welcomed the pain, though. After all, right now, he felt like he definitely deserved it.

The first time he thought he fixed the damn thing, it shocked him. The second time, it sparked and Tony ran over to grab the fire extinguisher for a fire that never came. The third time, the light exploded and Tony cursed, punching the table in frustration, which was a terrible idea in the first place.

A sharp pain ran through Tony's abused hand and he let out a groan of pain as he clutched his hand protectively to his chest.

"What did that table ever do to you?" A female voice came from the doorway.

Tony glanced up to see an exasperated assassin staring at him, her face a perfect mask that hid her true emotions. "Screw you," Tony leaned against the table, his hand still throbbing.

"Now, I wouldn't call that a proper greeting for someone you haven't seen in two years," Natasha raised an eyebrow at him.

"I'm not looking for a therapy session at the moment," Tony told her.

"Then it's a good thing that I'm not here to give you one," Natasha walked over to him. She gently took his injured hand.

"What are you doing?" Tony asked, trying to pull his hand back.

"Shut up, Stark," Natasha remarked, not unkindly. She took his hand gently once more, and this time the billionaire let her examine his bloodied knuckles. "You're lucky you didn't break anything."

 _Would've been better if I did,_ Tony thought bitterly. At least the pain would distract him from his agonizing misery.

"Come on," Natasha nodded her head towards the end of the room that had a sink and a table to sit at.

Tony, biting back questions, followed the assassin, not entirely sure what was going on.

"Sit," She ordered, nodding towards the table.

Tony sighed, taking a seat and asking, "What's going on, Widow?"

Natasha grabbed a wash cloth from a cabinet, wet it in the sink and said, "You tell me." She walked over to sit next to him, turning to face the billionaire. She took his injured hand and started to dab the blood away from his bruising knuckles.

Tony flinched.

Natasha, who took note of the billionaire's reaction, glanced at his face for a moment, "Serves you right, you idiot."

"Hey, I'm a genius," Tony objected, unable to stop himself from making the quip.

Natasha's chuckle sent a dreadful shiver down Tony's spine, "Sure, you are."

They were silent for a few minutes as Tony just watched the now blonde assassin tending to his injured hand with a surprisingly gently touch. What was causing this behavior was beyond him. Natasha has never acted like this, at least not to him.

"I'm not going break like glass, you know," Tony broke the silence.

Natasha didn't look at him when she says, "I'd say otherwise."

Tony rolled his eyes, "You sure know how to make a person feel special."

There was a few more minutes of silence as Natasha finished cleaning up the rest of the blood. When she set the cloth on the table, she broke the silence. "Clint's family's gone."

Tony felt his stomach lurch. "What about Barton?"

"He's fine. Shaken and grieving, but he's fine."

Tony still felt sick. Clint's kids were so young... Younger than Peter...

"He called about a three hours before you woke up," Widow continued. "He was half out of his mind in grief and confusion. He was furious that we didn't call him about what was happening."

Tony felt himself scoff, "You'd think, being retired and all, he'd look at the news at least once a day."

"What's the point of looking at the news when your face is always plastered on it for blame?" Natasha pointed out.

Another pang of guilt rang through Tony's subconscious. Just when he could've thought things couldn't get any worse… there was always something else that proved him wrong.

Don't get him wrong; Tony was aware that a lot of things were his fault. He was aware of making the team fight against one another, he was aware that he practically caused the tension between himself and Steve. Tony was also aware of the fact that he had given the kid a suit and was encouraging him to be a 'Friendly Neighboorhood Spider-Man,'… and look how things ended up. Things went south in so many ways, that Tony couldn't help but think the world would've been better off if he wasn't born in the first place. Maybe if he hadn't been around to make all of his shit choices, then things wouldn't be the way they were at the present moment.

Tony felt tears prickle against the back of his eyes and he fought the small waver that was trying to make its way into his voice. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Thought you'd want to know," Natasha shrugged.

"Know what? What do you want me to say, huh? I'm sorry? No matter how many times I say it, there's no forgiveness from me this time around," Tony exclaimed hysterically. "Trust me, I accepted that a long time ago."

"No one is saying this is your fault, Tony," Natasha frowned.

"Oh, please," Tony scoffed. "Are you really trying to convince yourself that it's not?"

"I wouldn't take that tone with me, Stark," Natasha warned. "That's not how your treat your friends."

"Really? Huh? Look who you're talking to," Tony grumbled, getting up from the table and heading back to where his broken arc reactor was resting on one of the lab workspaces.

"What happened up there, Tony?" Natasha's complete subject change caught him off guard.

Tony felt himself pause mid-step and his shoulders tensed up. "I thought I said I wasn't looking for a therapy-session."

"And I'm still not providing one," Natasha crossed her arms, glaring at the back of the billionaire's head in frustration.

"Certainly seems like it," Tony disagreed as he continued back to his workspace.

"You're a dick, Stark," Natasha shook her head.

"I thought that was already established," Tony stated.

"And that attitude is precisely why I worry about you," Natasha's face morphed into one of patience once more.

"I thought you were incapable of feeling anything," Tony hunched back over the arc reactor.

"Maybe once a long time ago," Natasha agreed. "But then you changed that."

"I seriously doubt that."

"But the one thing I'll never understand is why you don't see that you're not alone," Natasha shook her head. "Is this about the kid? I swear to god, Tony…"

He didn't need to ask how she knew about him. He had a feeling he knew the answer the that. Even then, Tony felt his hands clench and something inside him broke. "Get out."

"I'm not going anywhere," Natasha stood her ground.

Tony spun around and threw a screwdriver at her, "Just leave me alone!"

Natasha dodged it easily, looking rather startled. That alone was unusual. The assassin was never one to show surprise. To her, it was a weakness.

Tony turned back to his work, his hands clenched on the edges of the tabletop, his knuckles turning white as he fought back a wave of emotions.

 _Don't cry,_ he scolded himself. _You don't deserve that kind of relief._

Not a moment later, Tony turned his head to see that there was no one in the lab besides himself.

Just like that, Tony felt his heart shatter just a little bit more.

* * *

 **I'm back! Sorry for disappearing. School exams have kind of captured my attention :P Anyways, my goal is to post one chapter at least every other Saturday. From here on out, I will try not to disappear on you guys too much :P**

 **Anyways...**

 **Was it good? Was it bad? Feel free to let me know!**

 **See you next time!**

 **P.S. I apologize for any grammatical/spelling errors. I do proof read my chapters, but I am my own editor right now so I might accidentally miss a few things. If you notice any major errors, feel free to let me know and I will fix them as soon as I can! Thank you!**


	6. Chapter 5

**_Dimension_** _ **: Unknown**_

 _ **Location: Queens, New York**_

* * *

For the rest of the day, Peter had a splitting headache and there was a pit in his stomach that refused to go away. He didn't exactly know why he was feeling the way he was. Maybe it was due to the fact that he hasn't totally felt alright ever since he had that nightmare last night. Could he even classify that dream as a nightmare? Nothing horrific happened, Peter just dreamed of an aunt that never existed. Was that even considered terrifying?

Peter felt like he was just being really childish, worrying about something that probably means nothing. However, even though Peter had tried to convince himself that nothing was out of the ordinary, he couldn't shake the feeling that there was something still... wrong.

When Peter walked into the Parker apartment, he was seriously considering whether or not he should just run back out. He really was just so done with everything feeling like something was out of place. However, for some reason Peter really hated being at the apartment at the present moment. Maybe it was because the pit in his stomach grew stronger as he walked through the rooms.

"Mom?" Peter called out, and he felt his stomach lurch for some unknown reason.

When Peter's voice echoed back with no response, Peter safely assumed that he was home alone. He wasn't entirely sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. After a moment of debate, he decided it was a good and bad thing. Good in a sense where Peter could just put off wondering what the hell was happening him. It was a bad thing, though, considering that he could put off wondering what was happening to him, but that doesn't mean it'd stop him from thinking about it. Whenever someone is left alone, their mind tends to wander across information that they kind of want to stay buried.

Walking into his bedroom, Peter closed the door just as a picture frame fell off his dresser.

Frowning, Peter walked over to the fallen frame and picked it up, only to see the picture of him and his family on the day of his high school graduation staring back at him through the broken glass. A sense of deja vu ran through Peter's veins and an image of his nonexistent aunt flashed across his mind, the woman laughing as he fixed the tassels on his hat.

Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Peter placed the photograph back on his dresser and crawled on top of his bed. Maybe a nap would help clear his mind of his insanity.

* * *

 _"Welcome to Stark Tower, Peter," FRIDAY's voice came from one of the speakers in the main room of the penthouse. "I have notified Mr. Stark that you have arrived."_

 _"I never thought I'd get to see this place on the inside," Peter mused to himself in wonder._

 _"Amazing isn't it?" Tony's voice came from the elevators._

 _Peter spun around to see the billionaire walking towards him. "Hello, Mr. Stark! I got your message, you said you wanted to see me?"_

 _"Indeed I did, kid," Tony nodded. "I've called you here for a proposal."_

 _"What is it? A new suit? Am I getting my very own AI? Am I finally becoming an Avenger?" Peter began to ramble._

 _Tony held his hands out in a slowing gesture, "Whoa, kid, slow your roll. You've got a long way to go until you graduate from your training wheels."_

 _"But it's been months, Mr. Stark. I'm finally ready to get out there and start helping!"_

 _"And you will," Tony promised. "It'll just take some time."_

 _"You said I was getting close, though. You said..."_

 _"I know what I said," Tony kindly cut him off. "Good things come to those who have patience."_

 _Peter frowned, "I don't think that's how that phrase works..."_

 _"Good, then I just invented it," Tony brushed off his remark. "As for that proposal, what do you think about an 'internship'?"_

* * *

Peter awoke with a gasp, shooting into a sitting position and resting his hand against his racing heart. He took a few minutes to coax his breathing back to normal before burying his face in his hands.

Why was this happening to him? Why was he getting these strange dreams of people that he's never met? Why does he awake to the feeling that something's wrong and that he should remember these people? Why does it feel like he's lost a part of himself?

A knock came on his door, "Peter, honey? Dinner will be ready in fifteen minutes." It was his mother.

"I'll be out soon," Peter replied, wincing at the sandpapered tone of his voice.

Getting up from the bed, Peter went straight to his laptop on his desk, turned on the computer and opened the browser before typing 'Tony Stark' into the search engine.

After enduring five minutes of searching to no avail, Peter closed his laptop and banged his head on the table in defeat.

He had to be losing his mind, that had to be the logical explanation. No one dreams of people that don't exist, and it's freaking Peter out that it was happening to him. Not only was he freaking out, but he was pissed off about it too. Why does everything always have to happen to him? In past, it was always something Peter had to endure. He had the "bad luck", he had to deal with the bullying and friends stabbing him in the back. He had to deal with Ned...

 _No, don't think that,_ Peter shook his head to clear his thoughts, but a stab of pain still made its way into his heart. Thinking of Ned send always seemed to send a wave of dread down his spine nowadays. It used to be something that made him cry over and over again for months until MJ pulled him out of his pity party and knocked some sense into his head. For the first few months, his parents had him go to therapy, claiming it would help with the grieving process, but all it did was make Peter more upset. Now, instead of feeling sad, he felt like something doesn't add up. He felt like something was wrong, as if there was something that shouldn't be the way it was.

Of course, that could be Peter's biased self, but with him getting these weird vivid dreams, Peter felt as if the dreams weren't nightmares. No, Peter felt as if these dreams were a little _too_ vivid, a little _too_ realistic, and thing that didn't make a lick of sense to Peter was the fact that he didn't feel threatened in those dreams. Instead, he felt welcomed and comfortable, as if he experienced those dreams himself in another lifetime. But that can't be possible right? Why would the dreams be memories of something he doesn't remember? Of people that don't even exist?

He grabbed his phone and dialed the only person that Peter knew would listen to what he had to say without judgment

"What's up, Parker?" A female voice came from the other end.

"I had another wacky dream," Peter confessed.

"And you're calling me why?" MJ sounded confused.

"Because it was a dream of a different person that doesn't seem to exist," Peter told her.

"And now you're calling me to freak out," MJ stated, she knew him too well.

"I'm beyond flipping out right now, MJ," Peter lowered his voice so his parents couldn't hear him through the door. "Why the hell am I dreaming of people that don't exist?"

"I can't answer that for you, Pete, you're weird enough as it is," MJ joked.

"I'm so not in the mood for teasing right now," Peter replied, his voice close to hysterics.

"You're really freaked out about this, aren't you?" MJ's voice changed to a gentler tone that Peter hadn't heard in a long time.

"I don't know what's happening to me, MJ," Peter cursed his voice for sounding like a scared little kid.

"Why are you so sure they mean anything at all?" MJ wondered.

"Because I've been having this gut feeling that something's been off ever since I woke up two days ago," Peter explained. "These dreams... they're not like the other nightmare's I've had... they're too vivid, MJ. They're more like..." Peter sighed, hesitating in the fear of sounding like an insane person.

"They're more like what?" MJ's tone was encouraging, but not pushing Peter into telling her if he didn't want to.

"They feel like they're more like memories," Peter said.

There was a minute of silence before MJ asked, "Memories?"

Peter sighed in defeat, "I don't even know anymore, MJ. All I know is they're not _dreams_. They can't be. They feel too real. Like, scary real."

"I get it," MJ reassured him. "It's just... that's a huge speculation right there, Pete."

"Don't you think I know that? I'm terrified I'm losing my mind over here," Peter stated.

"I'm afraid we all have a long time ago."

"MJ!" Peter groaned in frustration.

"Sorry, I can't help it," MJ apologized. "Making jokes is kinda how I deal with situations."

"Yeah, well it's not making me feel any better," Peter began to pace around the room.

"Look, Pete, we'll keep an eye on things, okay? We'll delve into what might be causing this, but you have to keep your cool," MJ said.

"I don't know if I can do that right now," Peter continued to pace.

"And that's exactly why you're scaring me right now," MJ told him.

"Yeah, well, I'm scaring me too," Was all Peter said before he hung up and sat on the edge of his bed, gripping the sides of his head as if it was the only thing that kept him sane at the moment.

* * *

 **Thank you so much for the support you guys are giving this story! You're amazing!**

 **Was it good? Was it bad? Feel free to let me know!**


	7. Chapter 6

_**Dimension: MCU**_

 _ **Location: Wakanda**_

* * *

Tony didn't know how long he'd been down in the lab, working away at repairing the Arc Reactor. However, when his abdomen started to ache once more, he took a break to redress the damned wound. Don't get him wrong, Tony wanted to feel the ache and pain of the stab wound, hell he felt like he kinda deserved it for failing the universe, for failing Peter and Pepper and Happy... However, he couldn't bring himself to let the wound get infected and he could finally die and be with them again. He couldn't do that. He'd let everyone down if he took the coward's way out.

So instead, he went upstairs, let Shuri clean and bandage the wound, and then Tony went back down to the lab to get back to work.

He was left alone for a few more hours before he heard footsteps coming down the walkway.

"Natasha I swear to god..." Tony began as he turned around, only to see Rhodey instead of the blonde assassin. "Oh."

Rhodey awkwardly showed him the plate of food he had brought down. "Thought you'd be hungry."

Tony turned back to his work, "Not hungry."

Rhodey sighed, "And you know that I know better than that."

"If you're here to pry information out of me, I'm not talking," Tony stated

"You know that's not why I'm here, man," Rhodey sounded a little hurt.

"Did you draw the short straw?" Tony asked.

"We don't draw straws to check up on you."

"I can take care of myself just fine," Was Tony's curt reply.

"I know you can, but not like this," Rhodey shook his head. "We all need a little caring now and again, man."

"Yeah, well, as I said, I'm fine," Tony gritted his teeth as he fought back a wave of emotions he had successfully distracted himself from.

"And I call bullshit," Rhodey crossed his arms. "Why don't you take a break? You should eat something."

"I need to finish this," Tony stated subbornly.

"And that's exactly how I know you're not fine," Rhodey walked up to him, setting the plate down on the lab table, a little too harshly. "You may be able to fool the others with that mask, but I _know_ you, Tony! I've known you years before you became Iron Man. I know how you deal with things, you shut everyone out and you neglect your health to the point where you get sick. I've _seen_ it happen to you, man. I don't want you to have to go through the again."

"And what's the point, huh? People just find me disappointing at the end of the day," Tony challenged.

"You know that's not true."

"Is it?" He turned to raise his eyebrows at his friend.

"It's not. We've been through this before..."

"And at the end of the day there is always something to prove I'm right..."

"God dammit, Tony, will you just shut up and stop thinking about no one but yourself for a minute?" Rhodey snapped, looking close to tears.

Tony paused, his friend rarely cried. His friend only cried when thing were really bugging him, or when something tragic had happened... but at that moment, Tony couldn't say anything to comfort him.

"I get you're feeling down in the dumps, man, okay? I'm sorry I snapped at you, but I will not apologize for berating you about being selfishly self-centered," Rhodey clenched his fists together. "You're not the only one who's dealing with things. You're not the only one who lost friends in this, Tony. Pepper and Happy weren't just your friends, they were mine too. We lost Vision, Wanda, T'Challa, and other people that we didn't even talk to anymore. Steve lost Bucky and I thought..." His voice broke.

Names swirled around Tony's mind for a few moments as Rhodey's words processed in his mind. T'Challa? Things began to fall into place as Tony's mind instantly flashed to him waking up in Shuri's lab, the girl looking extremely tired and sad. T'Challa did mention that he had a sister. He just didn't think...

Vision and Wanda's death was something that slapped him in the face. They had been so in love with one another that Tony hoped they were in a happier place together. It still didn't hurt any less. Wanda had been so young and so full of hope and despair that Tony's heart broke that her life ended so young. And Vision... that was the last piece of JARVIS that Tony had left and now that it was officially shattered, Tony felt a small part of himself disappear. It made him feel empty.

As for Bucky? Well... Tony didn't know how he felt about the poor bastard. The billionaire had been furious when they fought back in Siberia, but the months that followed, Tony began to pity the Winter Soldier. Bucky had never asked to become a brainwashed assassin used by an evil organization that sought to gain power. Bucky never asked to murder people in cold blood. For that, Tony felt sorry for him.

"Tony..." Fingers snapped in front of his face to gain his attention, "Tony."

Tony shook his head to clear his thoughts, "Huh?"

"You spaced out, man, are you okay?" Rhodey looked worried.

Tony cleared his throat and nodded, "Yeah." It was a lie. "I'm fine." Everything about that statement was a lie.

"I was saying you should probably go talk with Steve..."

That jolted Tony back into reality as he looked at his friend incredulously. "No way in hell!"

"Tony..." Rhodey began.

"Don't you even dare try to convince me otherwise, Rhodes," Tony warned. "I'm so not in the mood to deal with this right now. You can't force me to deal with this right now. Not after everything that's happened."

"Why? Because you're afraid?" Rhodey asked.

"Afraid?" Tony scoffed. "Why the hell would I be afraid?"

"Because you're acting like a child!" Rhodey exclaimed in exasperation

"Me acting like a child? He broke up the team, Rhodey. He broke us up and he took them away. He left me nothing but a letter and a burner phone. 'The Avengers are yours, maybe more so than mine' my ass."

"Is that why you carried the phone around then? You carried the damn thing around for two years, Tony. _Two Years_."

"Yeah, I know, it's an embarrassment of technology."

"No, it's a person missing their friend, Tony. Their brother," Rhodey comforted him. "It's normal to miss your family."

Tony fell into silence for a few moments as he closed his eyes to take in a deep breath. "They stopped being my family a long time ago. I betrayed them, so why would they care about a dumbass like me?"

"Tony..." Rhodey began

The billionaire just shook his head, and asked, "Can I please just be alone?"

A few seconds passed before Rhodey just squeezed his shoulder and walked back up the walkway, leaving Tony to wallow in his own pity.

* * *

 __ __ **Was it good? Was it bad? Feel free to let me know!**


	8. Chapter 7

**Thank you to all the lovely support and reviews you guys are giving this story! You guys are amazing!**

* * *

 ** _Dimension_** _ **: Unknown**_

 _ **Location: New York**_

* * *

Peter couldn't sleep that night. He tried to doze off, but no matter what he did, his mind would not stop racing and the pit in his stomach kept him restless. It took about three hours of lying in bed, tossing and turning, before Peter finally gave up hope that he'd get a decent night's sleep. Getting up from his bed, Peter walked over to sit down at his desk before turning on his laptop. He had been thinking for the past few hours about his dream.

Tony Stark didn't exist, that much he was sure of. However, that tower that he saw in his dreams looked a hell of a lot familiar, as if he had passed it before. With a little bit of research, he found out exactly why it looked familiar.

Osborn Tower.

Peter remembered that his school had taken their senior class to Manhattan to visit the Metropolitan Museum of Art for their pre-graduation field trip. Ned, who was alive at the time, had been obsessed with that abandoned skyscraper that had been evacuated when a bad blizzard caused the foundation to become unstable. He wanted to go check it out, so with some convincing, Peter agreed to take a taxi with him to check out the building.

Now, Ned was gone and he hadn't given it a thought since then.

The question that Peter had was why it was called 'Stark Tower' in his dreams, but in real life there was no Tony Stark, nor was the tower called 'Stark Tower'.

It didn't matter. Peter had made up his mind. He was going to check the building out.

* * *

The next morning, Peter hated himself for admitting it, but he skipped work. If his parents found out, they were going to kill him for being stupid. But this couldn't wait, Peter needed to check out the tower, needed to see if it looked exactly like it had in his dreams.

However, he will admit that he almost second guessed himself. He almost walked back into the apartment to change into his work clothes and call it a day. In all honesty, though, Peter just hopped in a taxi and decided there was no going back.

Getting to the Tower wasn't difficult. He found it easily enough, which was surprising considering how many gigantic buildings were in Manhattan. It was almost _too_ easy to find and it scared the hell out of him. It was like there was something that was almost drawing Peter to the tower, as if it were calling his name. That was ridiculous, though. Buildings didn't have voices.

The harder part, on the other hand, was sneaking into the tower itself. The streets of Manhattan were always busy with people walking towards shops, or even to work, or taxis and cars crowding in the streets for the morning traffic. Somehow he managed to sneak in, he didn't know how he did it unnoticed, but once he was in, he felt accomplished.

The next challenge was getting to the penthouse. The elevator, with the tower being abandoned, was not in function, so that was out of the question. Of course, he could take the stairs, but climbing over fifty floors did not seem like an ideal way to do things. However, he swallowed his pride and started climbing.

It took him close to an hour and by the time he emerged into the penthouse, he was panting and sweaty and he was starting to question why he was doing this in the first place. When he got a good look around the penthouse, he remembered exactly why.

A eerie sense of deja vu washed over him as his eyes scanned the layout of the room. It looked exactly like it had in Peter's dream... just emptier and it gave off a sense of foreboding, as if Peter shouldn't be treading on the ground he was standing on. Then again, it technically wasn't his property and he was trespassing.

That wasn't the creepiest part of his forbidden journey.

The Penthouse looked like a ghost should be haunting the place. It was dusty, empty and the only light available was the sunlight shining through the tall window walls. It wasn't exactly what Peter was thinking of when he first saw the place all those years ago. When he saw the tower for the first time on the outside, Peter pictured decked out furniture with too expensive of a paint-job to even care about stepping inside the building. However, now that Peter saw that he was dead wrong, he really just wanted to bolt back home, escaping from the shivers that were crawling down his spine.

It was like walking on a tightrope, that's how tense he was while walking through the tower. Part of him wanted to explore everything, as if he could somehow unravel secrets that might answer his mysterious case of what he thought was insanity. However, another part of him felt like he was wandering further away from the point of no return, as if he was treading towards a much more dangerous secret that he had somehow found himself in the middle of. He still had a chance to escape back to his old life and pretend nothing was wrong. He could go to work and be happy and have his best friend by his side.

But Peter couldn't do that.

Not anymore.

Something strange was happening here, and Peter wanted to find out what.

Why did he dream of a place he had never been inside of? Why was it called 'Stark Tower' when there wasn't even a Tony Stark that existed? Sure, in reality, it was called 'Osborn Tower' but that name felt _wrong,_ as if the label didn't fit quite right. If the pit in his stomach was anything to go by, Peter was beginning to wonder if his whole life was a lie.

As Peter ventured down to the lower levels of the Tower, he felt as if something was pulling him somewhere. It wasn't a voice, hell, Peter would literally lose his mind if he was starting to hear nonexistent voices. It wasn't light or a shadow that was drawing him two floors below the penthouse. No, it was almost as if his gut feeling was drawing him to the place. What he did end up seeing made him stop cold.

The place looked like a storm had occurred inside the place, but no one picked up the debris. It looked somewhat like a lab, or at least, what was left of a lab. There were chairs that had been overturned, shattered glass from broken vials on the floor, papers skewed across the room. It was quite chilling, if Peter had to be honest. What scared him the most was a rust-colored stain on the far wall.

 _Dear God... please tell me that's no what I think it is_ , Peter shuddered.

Swallowing his courage, Peter walked into the darkened room, pulling out his phone to use it as a flashlight.

Despite all the creepiness, the lab was rather intriguing. Sadly, there wasn't much of anything useful left.

As Peter walked to the left side of the lab, he noticed a grid-looking device. Walking up to the strange object, Peter pressed a few buttons, only to have the lights flicker on.

"What the hell?" Peter stepped back from the device, stumbling a bit in his haste.

"Hello," A computer voice greeted.

Peter was ashamed of the yelp he released as he stumbled, successfully tripping on an overturned chair, fell backwards, hit his head on the side of one of the lab tables, and knocked himself out.

* * *

 **Oh, Peter, you clumsy poor fellow :P**

 **Sorry for any grammar/spelling mistakes. I am my own editor right now and while I do proof read my work, a few mistakes sometimes slip past me. If there is anything majorly wrong, feel free to let me know and I'll fix it ASAP! Thank you!**

 _ **Questions to Ponder:**_

 _ **1\. The Osborn name keeps popping up. Why do you think that is?**_

 _ **2\. Who is that mysterious person that just made an appearance?**_

 **See you next time!**


	9. Chapter 8

**_Dimension: MCU_**

 ** _Location: Wakanda_**

* * *

Tony lost count of how long it had taken him to fix the Arc Reactor. However, when he did finally finish reviving the device, he felt mentally drained and a little stir crazy.

The Stir Craziness wasn't too unusual for him, but what was unusual for him was the need to get out of a lab. Tony loved labs. He loved being able to go to a place and actually _do_ something _useful_ to distract him from the demons in his mind. With everything that had happened within the past few days, though, Tony needed to get out of the lab. He needed to get out _there_ and actually do something that will help fix what had happened. He needed redemption. Hell, he needed _revenge_. Thanos took everything from him. It's time to make that Titan pay.

In reality, Tony knew he wouldn't do that, at least not at the moment. The wounds are too fresh, he isn't up to his usual standards, and Peter would've kicked his ass if he did something stupid alone. He needed to wait, he needed his stab wound to heal, he needed to get back to the compound and reboot FRIDAY. He needed to get _home_.

Surrendering to the fact that he needed to get at least an hour's worth of sleep, Tony made his way back towards the palace and headed to the guest corridor of the building.

What he wanted was a few hours of restless sleep. What he didn't want was to run into a super-soldier who was turning a corner at the same time the billionaire did.

Running straight into a super-soldier hurts like hell. It's like bouncing off a hard rock of muscle. Groaning in pain as a hot flare of pain ran up his stomach wound. He bent over for a moment as he regained his focus.

"Shit, Tony," Steve cursed, bending down to examine the billionaire. "Are you okay? Are the stitches pulled?"

"Ugh, damn you, too, Rogers," Tony groaned as he clutched his sore side.

"Answer the question," Steve said. It wasn't demanding. Instead, his voice was concerned. It still pissed Tony the hell off.

"I'm peachy, Cap, damn peachy," Tony gritted his teeth.

"Well, considering you ego's in tack, I'm guessing you'll survive," The soldier was getting frustrated, but there was worry still evident in his face.

"My ego's always in tack," Tony scoffed as he slowly straightened back into a standing position.

"Damn right it is," Steve crossed his arms.

It was an attempt at a joking manner, that much Tony was sure of, but he was so not in the mood right now. He didn't want to deal with everything that had went wrong with their friendship, didn't want to deal with the talk of _what now_. So instead, Tony cleared his throat, bid the solider a rather terse goodnight and stalked off towards his room. It didn't stop Tony from wondering why he let things get so awkward between the person he practically considered a brother at one point.

* * *

Tony tried to fall asleep, he really did, but his mind would not leave him alone. He tried counting sheep, counting backwards from 100, he even tried to let the faint hum of the reactor lull him to sleep. When that didn't work, he gave up.

Don't get him wrong, sleep never came easy to him. When he was with Pepper, she anchored him enough to make him comfortable to fall asleep. Even then, it was never a "dreamless sleep" that was always shown in movies or books. No matter how much he tried, the demons never stopped making him gasp awake in terror. However, he still slept and he was able to recharge his batteries enough. Now, with everyone gone... he can't drift off. He didn't deserve his nightmares' mercy. So, finally, he got up and walked out of his room.

At first, he told himself that he was going to find the kitchen, have a glass of milk and try to fall asleep one more. How he ended up in a meadow, a few miles away from the palace, was beyond him. Maybe it was the thought of looking at the stars and how it used to always relax him. Maybe it was him looking for a chance to sneak away from everything that was happening around him. He needed a breather.

It had been awhile since Tony had taken the time to look at the stars. The last time he remembered finding the time was back at Clint's farm during the whole Ultron fiasco. That seemed like it was decades ago now. Funny how something like that seemed so small compared to what had just happened.

He must've been alone for a few hours before he was joined by someone else. Tony hadn't even noticed that someone came to lie down next to him until they spoke.

"Couldn't sleep?"

"Is it too much to ask to be alone?" Tony replied, not in the mood.

"I could leave you alone," Steve agreed, "But I have a feeling we both know that's exactly the opposite of what you want."

"And you know me so well?" Tony scoffed.

"You're the one that once told me that you enjoy having someone else to watch the stars with," Steve pointed out.

"Yeah, well, not this time," Tony grumbled.

"You wanna be pissed at me? Fine. I'm pissed at you too," Steve said, not even attempting to get up.

"If you're so mad at me then why are you here?" Tony asked.

"I'm mad that you didn't even bother to tell me you were alive," Steve stated, a hint of hurt in his voice. "You looked like crap when that alien brought you to the palace."

"Wow, thanks for the compliment," Tony remarked sarcastically.

There was a few minutes of awkward silence between the two before Steve said, "It _is_ really good to see you, Tony."

"Yeah, well, I'm not happy to be here," Tony sighed.

"Here in Wakanda or here as in 'alive'?"

"Take a guess."

"If I'm right, then I'm guessing we're both a mess," Steve smiled sadly.

"Please, are you kidding me? I'm never a mess," Tony immediately retorted.

"And just like that, I know something's bothering you," Steve turned his head to look at the billionaire.

"What do you want me to say, Cap? Huh? I'm not looking for a pity session," Tony refused to look at the man next to him. "I came here for peace and quiet, now if you're not going to shut up, then maybe you should just leave."

Steve fell silent and Tony immediately felt guilty. He hated snapping at people, contrary to what people may think. Yes, he did it often, and Tony hated himself for it. He just didn't want to talk about things that upset him. It wasn't the way that Tony dealt with things.

And yes, Tony was pissed, but he was more pissed at himself than the super soldier. A lot of things went wrong when Tony made that decision to try to kill Bucky to avenge his parents' deaths right after he saw their assassination footage. It didn't make him feel any less guiltier that he became petty and refused to try to make things right with his friend, even when Steve had been nothing but forgiving. It's just… Tony didn't deal well with things like this, he never had. He was always so sacred of being betrayed ever since Obadiah that he's scared to fix things and let everyone back in… Tony didn't know what he would do to himself if he lost them again.

But there was something about Steve… something about the way that they were both shattered. Steve would understand… Steve wouldn't judge him… he didn't when Tony broke down during Ultron. Maybe he wouldn't now.

Just like that… Tony surrendered.

"I was supposed to die that day," Tony eventually said.

That caused Steve's head to whip towards him. "What?"

"I tried everything I could and I only got a _drop_ of blood from it. The Titan laughed in my face. Thanos stabbed me and I thought that was the end."

"But you're here," Steve tried to comfort him.

"I'm also the reason we lost this battle," Tony stated.

"Tony..." Steve sighed.

"I'm serious, Cap." Tony sat up, hugging his knees to his chest. "Strange traded the time stone for my life."

Steve also sat up, looking at Tony in confusion, "What?"

"Strange foresaw over 14 million outcomes where only one was successful," Tony wouldn't look at the soldier. "He traded the stone and said it was the only way right before he disappeared."

"Did he tell you how to stop him?" Steve asked, a new desperation in his voice.

"You think I'd be falling apart if I did?" Tony practically demanded. "I have no clue as to why I'm alive. Everyone else faded away. Why did it have to be me? Why couldn't I have been left to die?"

Steve studied the billionaire who looked close to tears. "There's more that's upsetting you."

Tony's breath hitched, before his shoulders sagged in resignation. "I told the kid to go home... I told him it was safer on Earth, but that wasn't necessarily the truth, wasn't it?"

Steve frowned, "Kid?"

"You met him in Germany," Tony said. "Gave a hell of a fight."

Realization dawned on him, "The kid from Queens?"

"He can sense things," Tony explained. "He can sense them before they happen. God… he didn't want to go, he begged me to help him, but I couldn't... He just faded away in my arms and I was helpless to stop it."

"And you're blaming yourself for it," Steve realized.

"Can't you see that it is my fault?" Tony snapped, but there was no heat behind his words. "Thanos ripped _my_ weapon off of _my_ armor and stabbed me with _my_ own creation. If I hadn't been so stupid… if I hadn't gotten hurt, Strange wouldn't have had to bargain for my life."

Steve shook his head, "Don't think like that."

"Don't you dare tell me what to think and not think, Rogers," Tony warned.

"I'm not," Steve replied. "I'm just telling you to stop being irrational and blaming yourself for everything. Thanos would've gotten the stones either way, traded or not. You fought against him and you made him bleed, that's more than any of us accomplished. That just makes you even more of a hero than you already were."

"Then why does it feel like the world is still against me?" Tony asked.

"Because you're too hard on yourself."

"That's bullshit," Tony denied.

Steve sighed and paused for a moment before he said, "Remember what I told you that night at Clint's?"

"What? That my mind was going to be my worse enemy? Hate to tell you this, but I already know that, Cap."

Steve winced, "Can we please quit with the Cap nickname? I'm no captain. At least, not anymore."

"Then what else am I supposed to call you? Rogers?"

"You know I hate it when you call me Rogers," Steve said.

"More reason why I should call you Rogers."

"It's Steve, _Stark_ ," Steve returned.

"Whatever you say," Tony shrugged.

There was a few more minutes of silence before Tony groaned in annoyance. "Once again, I can practically hear you thinking away in there."

"I'm curious," Steve admitted.

"And please do tell why you're curious," Tony retorted.

"Why are you telling me all of this?" Steve asked. "After everything…"

Tony held up a hand to silence him. "As you said before, we're both a mess. No judgment entitled."

"And no judgment is being made," Steve nodded.

Feeling satisfied, Tony lowered himself back on the ground and looked up into the night sky with a shattered comrade beside him. A few hours later, he dozed off.

* * *

 **Okay, I do admit that I did reference a one-shot I had posted called "Counting Stars" where it was Tony stargazing after a nightmare and Steve being a good friend and comforting the billionaire.**

 **Other than that, I know Tony's POV has been filler chapters, but his side of the story is starting to pick up very very soon. Thanks for staying with me.**

 **Also, silent readers last chapter :( making me nervous, guys. Was it a bad chapter?**

 **Anyways, see you next time!**


	10. Chapter 9

_**Dimension: Unknown**_

 _ **Location: New York**_

* * *

When Peter came around, he wasn't entirely sure where he was, or what had happened. All he knew was that his head hurt like hell and he was lying on a cold surface.

Groaning in pain, Peter opened his eyes as the haze in his mind slowly vanished and his vision began to clear. When he got his bearing, Peter immediately sprang up into a crouched position, realizing that he was in the abandoned Osborn Tower. How long had he been out for? Was his parents looking for him? Is it already nighttime?

"Good, you're awake," The robotic voice said. "I was beginning to wonder if medical authorities were needed."

The voice made the hair on the back of his neck stand up and he immediately tensed up, as if he was waiting for a battle that was never going to come. "Who are you? Show yourself!" Peter demanded.

"I'm afraid I can't. My name is JARVIS and people call me an AI, not a robot."

"An AI?" Peter frowned.

"It's short for Artificial Intelligence," JARVIS clarified.

"Who built you?" Peter asked.

There was a moment of silence before the AI responded. "I'm afraid I don't quite know," JARVIS admitted. "It appears that certain files in my memory drive have been erased."

Peter found himself nodding along as he wondered aloud, "Am I losing my mind?"

"I can reassure you that you are not losing your mind," JARVIS stated.

"That doesn't make me feel any better," Peter stood up into a straighter position. He winced as a spike of pain ran through his skull.

"You hit your head quite hard on a nearby lab table," JARVIS noted. "I have concluded that it was not concussion worthy."

"Thanks for that, I guess," Peter said.

"I'm afraid that I haven't caught your name yet."

Peter paused. Should he really be giving his name out a random robot that might not even be real? _You know what?_ Peter thought. _Screw it, I'm already crazy._ "My name's Peter."

"Well, it's a pleasure to meet you, Peter," JARVIS greeted.

An eerie sense of deja vu hit Peter as his mind flashed back to the dream he had. Wasn't there an AI that he met in his dreams? It wasn't JARVIS, that was for sure. The voice had been female... She had a name, but Peter couldn't seem to remember it.

"I can sense that you're thinking about something that's bothering you," JARVIS observed.

"That's creepy," Peter chuckled.

"My apologies," JARVIS said. "It's in my programming. Do you want to say what it is that is on your mind?"

Peter hesitated, "I don't know if that's such a good idea..."

"I can assure you that anything that you say here will just be between us and no one else," JARVIS said.

Peter sighed, maybe this was his chance to figure out what was going on here. "I've been having these dreams," Peter began. "I'm not really sure as to why i'm having them, but they're freaking me out. For the past few nights, I've been having these dreams about people that don't exist, but I swear I've met them before. The dream that I had yesterday was in this tower, but it was called Stark Tower instead of Osborn Tower. Inside the tower there was an AI, but it wasn't you... it was a girl... I don't remember her name though."

"With my knowledge of human sleep cycles, your dreams are rather unusual," JARVIS admitted. "However, I don't think I'd be able to deduct a cause with such little information."

"I can't give any more information to you," Peter shook his head. "I don't even have a clue as to what is happening to me." He would've continued talking, but his phone rang. When he looked at the caller ID, it was his mother. He answered it. "Hey, Mom."

 _"Hey, honey, did you get held up at work?"_

"Yeah," Peter lied sheepishly. "I was helping a coworker with some research and I must've lost track of the time."

 _"Do you think you'll be home soon? Your father's making his famous meatloaf, said it was his treat."_

"I'll be leaving in like ten minutes," Peter reassured her. "I'll be home in close to thirty."

 _"Sounds good," His mother replied. "See you soon, sweetie."_

"Bye," Peter hung up. He sighed. "I got to go."

"You will come back, won't you?" JARVIS asked.

"I can't make any promises," Peter admitted. "Honestly, this whole situation has me kind of freaked out."

"Well, in that case, it was nice to meet you, Peter," JARVIS said.

"You too, JARVIS," Peter agreed. Walking up to the computer, Peter switched off the mainframe once more before beginning his trek down the stairs and then making his way home.

* * *

Later that night, Peter found himself lying wide awake in his bed, unsure as to why he didn't want to doze off. In fact, Peter would've thought that he would actually welcome unconsciousness due to the fact that he's been sleeping terribly ever since he started to have these strange dreams. However, this time, Peter was _scared_ to fall asleep. What happened if he had another dream that he didn't know whether it was real or not? What happened if he woke up screaming and accidentally woke his parents up? He really didn't want to explain to them that their son was having dreams about people that didn't even exist.

Peter sighed. Another reason why he had trouble dozing off was the fact that he couldn't shake the feeling that he's met JARVIS before. At least, the voice made a sense of deja vu wash over him like a tidal wave. But that couldn't even be possible, let alone real. Peter had never stepped food inside the Osborn Tower, and he didn't even know that the robot existed until he accidentally turned on the computer mainframe and knocked himself out. Was is possible that maybe _JARVIS_ was a real person at some point?

Kicking off his blanket and getting up the comfort of his bed, Peter made his way to his desk once more and turned on his laptop. Sure enough, when he typed in Jarvis's name, a search match came up.

Edwin Jarvis (1909-1942), served in the Britain Armed Forces when he sadly passed due to a rescuse operation gone wrong.

So the bigger question that Peter was wondering was if this was somehow connected with the Jarvis robot... thing... that he had found in the Osborn Tower? But that couldn't be possible, could it? The Osborn Tower had only been built four years ago, and had been abandoned for a little over a year. Edwin Jarvis had been dead for more than seven decades before the tower was even built. Surely it was just a random coincidence?

However, for Peter, the pit in his stomach was answer enough.

* * *

 **Thank you guys so much for the support as always! You guys are amazing!**

 **Chapter was a little shorter than I wanted to be, but i'm not going to complain, I do admit I had some trouble with this chapter, but hey, it happens every once in awhile.**

 **Anyways, see you next time!**


	11. Chapter 10

_**Dimension: MCU**_

 _ **Location: Wakada**_

* * *

When Tony woke up the next morning, he was surprised to find himself in his bed in the guest room of the Wakanda Palace. How he had gotten there was beyond him, but he had a sneaky feeling that he knew who was responsible. He just didn't want to think about what it might have meant. Steve and Tony still had a long way to go if they ever wanted to be friends, and Tony wasn't just going to let him back into his life, even if he still saw Steve as a brother. And while Steve might not have a lot to apologize for, Tony did. He wasn't going to accept forgiveness that he still has yet to earn.

He slept surprisingly alright after being under the stars. Then again, back in the day, that was the trick that Tony had used after a really bad nightmare. It was just something about being under the stars that made him forget his worries and escape reality for a little bit. However, at that moment, he needed to get out of the palace. He needed to get home. He needed what little comfort that the place he called a home had left, because being in Wakanda with all the grief and reminders of the war was just too overwhelming.

With the Arc Reactor fixed, Tony was able to just press the device in his chest and the armor slowly enveloped his body. When the lit up display of the helmet came on, Tony felt a sense of strength wash over him. It was always easier to hide behind the mask, it gave him a sense of familiarity, and it gave him a sense of control.

Opening a window in the guest room, Tony didn't hesitate to fly off into the sunrise and make a direct route to the Avengers Compound

* * *

 ** _Dimension: MCU_**

 ** _Location: New York_**

* * *

By the time that Tony arrived at the compound, his stomach was growling and he was debating whether or not to just ignore his hunger and go straight to his lab. It's funny, really. There was a time when Tony wouldn't have hesitated to ignore his growling stomach and go straight back to working on a project. However, now he felt like he owed someone to take care of himself, which is something that Tony really despised as the moment.

Surrendering, Tony pressed the Arc Reactor in his chest and the suit tucked itself away into the tiny device, leaving Tony exposed to the cool spring breeze. Walking inside, Tony hated to admit it, but he almost turned around and walked back out. It was way too quiet without anyone there and he felt like he had stumbled into a haunted house. It was actually quite foreboding if he had to be completely honest. Even as he made his way towards to the compound's kitchen, Tony was beginning to wonder if he should even be in this place after everything that had happened.

As he rounded to corner and walked into the kitchen, he made his way towards the pantry and immediately grabbed a protein bar. Opening the wrapper, Tony took a bit of the protein bar as he turned around, only to jump out of his skin and start to choke on his food.

"Well, it's good to see you too," The archer raised an eyebrow at the choking genius.

"Screw... You..." Tony managed to gasp as he caught his breath.

"Are you good?" Clint asked. "Do you need the heimlich?"

"I'm good," Tony paused as he took a few deep breaths. "I'm fine."

"You can tell that lie again," Clint scoffed. "Hasn't anyone every told you it's rude to leave without telling anyone?"

"Please, like anyone's gonna miss me," Tony scoffed.

"You know that's bullshit," Clint rolled his eyes.

There was a moment of silence that passed between the two friends before Tony took another bite of his protein bar and asked in a low voice, "Did Rhodey call you?"

"Nat did," Clint said.

Tony scoffed. "Should've known that blonde-headed assassin wouldn't leave me be."

"We're worried, Stark, can you blame us?" Clint gave Tony a pointed look.

"You worried?" Tony laughed. "Should I feel grateful or offended?"

"Is everything a joke to you?" Clint gritted his teeth. "I'm really trying here, Tony."

"Oh, trust me, I know. You're not usually the mushy type of person that talks about your feelings."

"And just like that, you're a dick once more," Clint crossed his arms. "Why do you insist on making everyone hate you?"

"Because it's my charm?" Tony wondered.

"Somehow I seriously doubt that," Clint scoffed. "I know what it's like to lose someone unexpectedly, alright?"

"Considering what had just happened, I can't say I'm surprised," Tony turned back around, pretending to grab a coffee mug so he didn't have to look Barton in the face. "Welcome to the party."

"That's not the point I'm trying to make and you know it," Clint sounded pissed. "I was working in the barn with Cooper and Lila. Laura was in the house with Nathaniel."

Tony tensed as Clint's voice changed into a tone that Tony had never heard from the archer before. It sounded so pained and mournful that Tony found himself clutching to the edges of the counter.

"There was a shiver that ran down my back," Clint's voice was low and raw-honest. "I knew something wasn't right and when I went back inside... Laura was nowhere to be found and Nathaniel was crying on the floor."

"Barton..." Tony began.

"Just shut up... For once in your goddamn life, Stark, just shut up," Clint growled, and if Tony had been facing his friend, he had no doubt that the archer would be close to tears. If the billionaire was honest, he wasn't far from tears either. For both of their sakes, Tony stayed facing the cabinets, his hand in mid-air with a coffee mug in his hands.

Clint cleared his throat and continued. "Cooper suddenly collapsed and I grabbed him by the elbow, he didn't know what was going on, and neither did I at the time. He just disappeared to dust and Lila screamed and disappeared as well. Nathaniel was still crying on the floor when I picked him up. He disappeared a few moments later in my arms..."

 _He disappeared a few moments later in my arms..._

Maybe it was those words that got to Tony because he was brought back to reality when he heard something shatter. It was the coffee mug that had fell from his hand and onto the counter.

"Shit," Tony's voice quivered as he clutched the edges of the counter in a white-knuckle grip.

"I know what it's like, Tony," Clint's voice was quiet and sympathetic. "Don't you dare say you feel any differently."

Tony felt like an ass but he said, "I wish it were me instead."

Clint sighed, "Me too."

"What do we do now?" The question passed from Tony's lips before he could realize what he was saying.

Tony heard a chair scrape across the floor as Clint got up from the table and walked up to be next to his friend. The archer leaned against the counter and said, "We do what we always do."

Tony shook his head in exasperation as he asked stupidly, "Screw things up?"

Clint chuckled before saying. "We Avenge."


	12. Chapter 11

**Hey, guys! I'm back and I'm sorry for the month-long hiatus. It's been a really busy summer of traveling and family visiting. I haven't really had a lot of time to sit down on my computer, but now things are calming back down and I'm finally posting a chapter! Anyways, enjoy!**

 **P.S. Thank you for everyone who had reviewed, followed and favorited this story! The support you guys are giving is amazing!**

* * *

 _ **Dimension: Unkown**_

 _ **Location: New York**_

* * *

 _Peter was walking down the streets of Queens, New York, not exactly knowing where he was going, and not knowing what time of night it was. He had a fight with his Aunt and Uncle about some stupid thing. Peter messed up, he's not going to lie. He shouldn't have forgotten to walk his aunt home from the subway station. He shouldn't have gotten distracted._

 _He mainly walked out that door to stop himself from saying something that he would've regreted later on. He just needed some time to clear his head, calm his temper and then he would go back to the apartment and apologize to his uncle and his aunt for being such a terrible nephew._

 _He was jolted out of his thoughts when he heard a gunshot from two blocks behind him. He didn't know why he found himself running to the scene, maybe it was the pit in his stomach telling him that something was not right. Maybe it was just curiosity, but Peter knew better._

 _When he approached the rapidly growing crowd, Peter knew someone had gotten shot. However, when he looked over the crowd and he saw who it was, he felt like he was slapped in the face._

 _"No, no, no, no..." Peter croaked as he pushed his way through the crowd._

 _A police officer caught him by the shoulder, "Sir, you gotta stay back."_

 _Peter struggled free from the hold, "That's my Uncle!"_

 _Peter broke free and knelt by his uncle's side. He looked over to the officer who was looking at him pitifully, "What happened?"_

 _"He was shot by a burglar. The paramedics are on their way," She told him._

 _"This can't be happening..." Peter's lip began to quiver. "Uncle Ben?"_

 _His uncle's eyes fluttered open weakly and he looked around unfocused until he saw his teary-eyed nephew. "Peter?" He tried to reach for his nephew's face, but his hand was too shaky._

 _Peter took his hand and held it to his face, "It's me, Uncle Ben."_

 _A small smile appeared on the old man's face, "Peter."_

 _When Peter felt his uncle's hand slide limply to his face, knew that the worse was going to happen. All he could do was watch the light go out from his uncle's eyes and sit there comforting the man in his last seconds of life_

* * *

Peter woke with a heart-wrenching scream that ripped his throat in half. It was a weird feeling, one that he hadn't felt in a long time, so when Peter felt as if his heart was breaking in two, he felt like he wanted to die. Who was that man in his dreams and why did Peter feel like he lost someone close to him?

Hands suddenly were wrapped around him and Peter struggled, as if he were trying to prevent the person from trapping him in some sort of horrific tragedy. However, the hands receded immediately when Peter's struggles started to intensify.

"Peter!" His father's voice finally broke through Peter's hysterics.

Peter's screaming immediately stopped as he stared at his father for a moment before he felt himself began to break.

"Oh, Pete..." Richard Parker sighed as he sat next to his son and gathered him into his arms and rested Peter's head on his shoulder as he sobbed his heart out. "Let it out, Peter, just let it out." The elder Parker began to rub soothing circles into his son's upper back as Peter broke down.

Peter's not entirely sure how long the episode lasted, but it was long enough, in fact it was too long for his liking. It was weird. It wasn't the type of crying when you're missing someone who was dead. No, it was like Peter was actually _grieving_ for someone that had just died. So when he finally settled down enough to the point where he wasn't scaring the crap out of his father, Peter felt guilty as hell.

It was silent for a long while as Peter just rested his head on his father's shoulders, his mind wandering as his father continued to rub comforting circles into his upper back.

Finally, his father asked quietly, "Bad dream?"

Peter let out a watery chuckle, and when he spoke his voice was hoarse. "Something like that."

Another few minutes of silence.

"Ned?" Richard asked hesitantly.

Peter bit his lip as another wave of eeriness washed over him. "Yes," Peter lied.

"Pete," Richard sighed as he hugged his son tightly.

Peter decided to play along, as if not to draw suspicion from his father. "I miss him, Dad."

His father gave him a comforting squeeze, "Pete, while we lose our closest friends, they're still with us. They live in here," Richard pointed at Peter's chest where his heart lies.

"Then why doesn't it make it hurt any less?" Peter asked.

"Because losing someone is never going to be easy," The eldest Parker said. "But we get up everyday and we honor their memory because that's what they would want you to do. 'Cause if we don't? They'll just cease to exist and that's how memories are lost."

Peter sniffled as he sat up and broke away from his father, wiping the tears away with his long sleeve sleep shirt. "I'm sorry for scaring you."

Richard gave him a sympathetic and kind smile, "There's no apologies needed. You gonna be okay to go back to sleep?"

 _No._ "Yeah," Peter lied.

"Well," Richard clapped his son on the shoulder, "Goodnight, Peter."

"'Night, Dad," Peter replied.

Not a moment later, Richard walked out of the bedroom, closing the door behind him, leaving Peter to his own accords and confusing thoughts.

* * *

Peter didn't fall back to sleep, much to his dismay, but then again, he really didn't expect anything less. In his defense, what would happen if you had a dream about someone you never met dying in your arms? Why had it affected Peter so much? Why did he wake up screaming bloody murder? Like his parents had told him before, they had no brothers or sisters, they were single children growing up. So why had his dream self called the deceased Uncle Ben? Most of all, why did it feel like Peter had been grieving for someone wrongfully lost?

Those were thoughts that kept him up all night as he found himself staring at the ceiling wondering why this was happening to him. Did he have a mental illness? Was he losing his mind? Does he need to be checked out? Does he need to go on meds? Are these just imaginary people that he just made up?

No, it can't be. Dreams are a weird thing. However, Peter remembered having to do a study on dreams while taking a Psychology course. It had been stated that everyone in your dreams is someone who you have met or seen, not someone you have made up. If that's true, then why don't these people exist?

All these thoughts just ended up giving Peter a killer headache in the end.

The next morning after a practically sleepless night, Peter sent a text to MJ and asked her if she wanted to go for breakfast because he really needed to talk to her. As crazy as it sounded, Peter felt like MJ would be the only one that wouldn't judge him or call him insane. She was always the kind of person who would sit down and listen to every word that you had to say, crazy or not. Right now, Peter needed that more than ever.

Getting dressed and putting his shoes on, Peter was about to walk out his door when he heard the faint voices of his parents talking. He didn't know what made him act the way he did after that. It was just an instinctive pit in his stomach telling Peter that they were talking about him. Finding himself curious to what his parents were saying, Peter cracked the door enough to hear their conversation.

"He's had nightmares before, Richard," Mary stated. Peter heard the sizzling of the stove and assumed that she was making breakfast.

"Not like that though, at least not in awhile," Richard reasoned with his wife. "He didn't even know I was there until a few minutes after being scared of his mind."

Mary sighed in concern. "It's almost been a year, Richard. I thought that he'd be over it by now."

"Ned was his best friend, Mary," Richard replied sadly. "With what happened to him and Peter being the one to find him... it's something that'll haunt him for the rest of his life."

"You think we should sign up for therapy again?" Mary asked hesitantly.

"I mean, he has been having a lot of nightmares recently," Richard pointed out. "Maybe a few sessions won't hurt."

That was all Peter need to hear. He felt a wave of irrational anger course through his veins and it scared the crap out of him. Deciding to go before he said something he regretted, Peter grabbed his jacket, opened up the door and headed towards the front door.

"I'm going out," Peter called as he reached for the handle.

"Where are you going, Peter? You haven't even had breakfast," Mary walked up to her son.

"I'm meeting MJ for breakfast," Peter stated, maybe a little more tersely than he meant to.

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Mary asked in a low voice, almost as if she was hoping to convince him to stay.

Peter frowned, "Why wouldn't it be?"

With that said, Peter opened the door and walked out of the apartment, feeling a small sense of guilt but a huge wave of eeriness creep down his spine. Ignoring the pit in his stomach, Peter made his way to the cafe that was a few blocks away.

* * *

 **Things are starting to heat up a little bit, aren't they?**

 _ **Questions to Ponder:**_

 _ **1\. Ned's "death" keeps being brought up. Do you think there's more behind that story?**_

 ** _2\. Do you think MJ knows more than she's letting on? Why is she believing everything Peter says? Or does she?_**

 **That's all the questions I can give that won't spoil anything in the future. See you next time!**


	13. Chapter 12

**I'm back! I know I disappeared for a few months and I do apologize for that, but sometimes writers are entitled to extensive breaks. I am back and I will try to update every other week if I can but with school dominating my life right now I can't make any promises. Anyways, thank you for all the continued support! This chapter is relatively short but I'll make it up in the next chapter.**

* * *

 _Tony wasn't entirely sure where he was or how he ended up sitting on a hay stack in a barn feeling sorry for himself. He didn't even own a barn for heaven's sake! Then again, Tony was used to blacking out during his alcoholic days, but he hasn't touched a bottle of liquor in who knows how long. Maybe the world was finally broken. Well, it was that or Tony had finally lost what little sanity he had._

 _"You're not insane, you know," A deep voice made Tony jump into a fighting position, his hand out as if he were to blast his opponent. Only he didn't exactly have his suit on him at that moment._

 _It was too dark to see who was talking to him, but Tony could make out their outline in the shadows._

 _"Who are you?" Tony demanded._

 _"Oh, come on, Stark," The voice chucked. "Certainly it hasn't been that long has it?" As the figure emerged into the moonlight glow, Tony was able to make out the eyepatch on the man's face._

 _"Fury?" Tony asked, uncertainty in his voice._

 _"That's my name," Fury nodded. "Glad to see you still remembered."_

 _"This is impossible," Tony shook his head. "You're dead."_

 _"Am I?" Fury raised an eyebrow at the genius as he sat down on the hay stack that Tony had been on a few moments before and patted the seat next to him. "Come, take a seat."_

 _Tony sighed and reluctantly sat down even though his nerves were going haywire._

 _"This is my conscious, isn't it? Are you here to give me a lecture? God, please don't tell me you're my conscious, I don't need_ _ **Nick Fury**_ _berating my every movement," Tony began to ramble._

 _"Oh quit your whining, Stark," Fury rolled his eye. "Who says I'm here to give you a lecture? Although you're in much need of one. However, that's not what I'm here for."_

 _"Then what are you here for? Am I dead?"_

 _"No, Stark, you're not dead," Fury shook his head. "You're very much alive."_

 _"Then I'm dreaming," Tony concluded._

 _"Not necessarily," Fury said._

 _"Then how the hell am I speaking to you right now if I wasn't dreaming or dead?" Tony wondered._

 _"It's quite complicated, I'm afraid," Fury replied. "Also, it's not for me to say. There's an unspoken rule to the universe, Stark."_

 _"Now you're making absolutely no sense," Tony exclaimed. "What did you come to tell me, Fury?"_

 _"And how do you know that I have something to say?" Fury smirked._

 _"I'm not an idiot, you know. Whenever you talk to me it's either to berate me or you have something important for me to hear," Tony crossed his arms._

 _It was silent for a complete minute before Fury sighed and finally said, "Don't trust anything about what you think is going on."_

 _Tony's head whipped around to look at the former S.H.I.E.L.D director. "What?"_

 _"Not everything is as it appears to be. There's a whole lot more going on that you don't know about yet," Fury elaborated._

 _"I still don't know what you're talking about?" Tony shook his head in bemusement._

 _"You know, for a genius, you're awfully slow sometimes, you know that?" Fury stared at the billionaire, unimpressed._

 _"Now I'm just offended," Tony mocked a pained expression._

 _"Don't you think it was weird how everyone just disappeared?" Fury inquired curiously._

 _"There's nothing weird about it, they just died and it was my fault," Tony sighed in defeat._

 _"I wouldn't say 'dead' just yet, Stark... just think about it," Fury stated before he just disappeared into thin air._

* * *

Tony jolted awake in cold sweat, breathing heavily as he placed a hand against his racing heart. Looking around at his surroundings, Tony took in the comfort of being in his room at the Compound and not in a barn somewhere in the world. He was home, he was safe... and there was a nagging feeling in the back of his head.

What was that dream all about? And why didn't feel like... well a _dream_? It felt too real to have been a dream, but as far as Tony was concerned, he didn't sleep-walk into the country and he _woke up._ So he had to have been dreaming all along right? Then again, it's not the first time that something whacky had happened to him.

"FRIDAY?" Tony asked.

"Yes, Mr. Stark?" FRIDAY replied and Tony felt an unexpected wave of relief wash over him at his AI's voice.

"Have I been here all night?" Tony asked.

"Yes, you have, Mr. Stark. You've been asleep for two hours now. It's currently one in the morning," FRIDAY answered.

Well that answered his question of sleep-walking. But a thought kept bugging Tony and Fury's words kept echoing in his mind.

 _"Don't you think it was weird how everyone just disappeared?"_

Weird didn't have anything to do with it. Everyone just disappeared to dust, as if they had been erased from existence. That's what happened, end of story. So why did Tony suddenly feel like there was a stone that was left unturned?

 _"I wouldn't say 'dead' just yet, Stark... just think about it."_

Tony got out of bed, threw on a sweatshirt and made his way down his lab, unsure of what his true motive was. All he knew was that he just had to get out of bed and just _work_. What he wanted to work on? Well, he wanted to do some digging. Maybe Fury was right, maybe there was something going on that Tony didn't currently know about.

Then again, Tony was basing his theories off of a dream that could've been caused by emotional trauma. All the thoughts racing around his head at the very moment could just be a figment of his overactive imagination. Fury was dead. He was one of the people who disappeared, along with Maria Hill and a whole bunch of other people. Why should Tony trust his conscious at the current moment? He wasn't exactly the ideal model for mental health.

However, if Tony had a dollar for every time something weird had happened to him, he'd be richer than he already was. So maybe this whole situation isn't as weird as it seemed to be at the moment.

Walking into his lab, Tony immediately said, "FRIDAY, bring up any files you have regarding the infinity stones."

"There is currently 5 encrypted files regarding the infinity stones. Shall I start the decrypting process?" FRIDAY asked.

... It was going to be along night.

* * *

 **Was it good? Was it bad? Feel free to let me know!**


	14. Chapter 13

When Peter walked into the cafe, his eyes immediately fell on MJ, who was sitting near the windows of the restaurant. Feeling an unexpected wave of relief wash over him, Peter made his way to his friend and sat down across from her.

MJ looked up from the menu she was scanning and took a long look at Peter. "Wow. You look like crap."

Peter scoffed, "Well, good morning to you too, I guess."

"No, seriously," MJ looked at her friend in concern. "You're not looking too good. You look like you've seen a ghost."

"Honestly, I'm wondering if I have," Peter admitted, not meeting MJ's eyes.

MJ frowned, "What do you mean?"

Peter sighed before explaining, "I had another weird dream last night."

"Another one?" MJ raised an eyebrow. "What as this one about? Did you find out you had a long lost twin?"

Peter rolled his eyes, "MJ, I'm being serious here."

MJ's expression softened and a smile appeared on her face, "Sorry, bad joke. What's going on, Pete?"

"I dreamed that I was strolling the streets at night, coming home from somewhere. There was this guilt that was consuming me, and I didn't know why. I turned the corner, and suddenly there was this guy on the ground, my dream self said it was my uncle. He died right in front of me. Then I woke up screaming bloody murder," Peter squirmed in his seat, feeling rather uneasy at the moment.

"Wow, that's a pretty intense dream, Pete," MJ admitted, looking quite concerned.

Peter studied her for a moment. "And now my parents want me to see a _therapist_. I don't need a shrink, I need answers."

"I don't know, Peter..." MJ seemed hesitant.

Peter stared at his friend in shock, finally taking in her concerned demeanor. "You think I'm going crazy!"

"I did not say that," MJ shook her head.

"I thought you believed me! What the hell, MJ?" Peter felt a stab of betrayal.

"I'm not saying that I don't, Peter," MJ lowered her voice in an attempt to not draw attention from the people around them. "It's just... With what happened to Ned and everything..."

"No, stop right there," Peter held a hand out to stop what she was saying. "I'm not having these dreams because of what happened to Ned. I am _not._ "

"But the dream you had is exactly what happened to..." MJ began again.

Peter cut her off. "You know, why did I even come here? I thought you were on my side, I thought you also believed something else was going on. If you thought I was losing my mind, you should've just said so," Peter stood up. "I don't need to listen to this."

"Peter, wait..." MJ tried to interject.

"Just leave me alone," Peter shook his head as he took off running out the door, feeling his heart clench in sadness.

* * *

How Peter ended up at his best friend's grave was beyond him. Everything after running out of the cafe was a huge blur of tears and the feeling that he wanted to throw up.

MJ didn't believe him, she played him from the start. Maybe that's what caused him to break down right now, staring at his friend's grave and wondering why the world seemed to be laughing at his pathetic ass. Now his best friend and his parents thought he needed a shrink, and maybe they were right to be worried. Peter's behavior has become a bit paranoid, but he couldn't help it. If we he was losing his sanity then so be it, but he still couldn't ignore the pit that has found a permanent resting place in his stomach. It was the type of feeling that had him on edge twenty-four seven.

All these dreams really had him freaked out, and the more he thought about it, the more he realized that he couldn't remember things.

What had he been doing a few days ago? He remembered waking up one morning with a pit in his stomach and suddenly his parents were standing right in front of him. Then the dreams started shortly after that, and the pit in his stomach intensified. A few days ago, Peter wouldn't have even gave a thought about the pit in his stomach, maybe excusing it as the flu or something, but now he couldn't shake the feeling that something was seriously off.

The big give away... He knew Ned was dead, but he couldn't remember him _dying_... You'd think that he'd remember his best friend's death, especially if his parents said he had nightmares over it for months. It's not amnesia from the trauma, he knows that because the memories aren't _cloudy._ He literally can't remember _anything_ before waking up with the pit in his stomach. That should be worrying right?

But still, here he was, sitting at his best friend's grave, and Peter couldn't help it. He spoke.

"They tell me your dead," Peter began, "But something doesn't totally feel right here, man. Everything's been weird since I woke up a few days ago... I just... Why am I having these dreams of people who don't exist? Why am I having these feelings of heartbreak and grief like I experienced a person's death way too many times? Why do I have the feeling that I'm missing something completely obvious. I thought MJ would understand, she's always been the one to believe in the supernatural and superstition. But no, she thinks I'm losing my mind and she's agreeing with my parents that I need a _shrink_.

"But I know I'm not making this up, Ned. I know there's more to the story, but I don't know what to do. I don't know why I feel like a part of me is missing, and for some reason I don't know why I feel as if you're _alive_. Maybe that's denial, I don't know, but I believe that there's something going on. But I don't know where to turn anymore. I don't know if I can do this alone, Ned. I don't know where to go and I feel so lost..." Peter's voice broke and he cleared his throat, shaking his head. "What am I doing? Damn it, Ned..." Peter felt tears start to escape from his eyes. "I wish you were here, Ned... You always knew what to do... And now I'm talking to a gravestone and maybe I am losing my mind..."

Peter took a moment to collect himself, feeling the breeze float across his shoulder, as if it were someone placing a comforting hand there. Placing a hand on his shoulder, Peter let himself cry for a minute before he got up and walked out of the cemetery, not liking the sad atmosphere that swallowed him whole. Plus, he had an idea of where to go.

* * *

As soon as Peter set foot in Osborn tower, he knew he shouldn't be there. He trespassed once already and risking a second time scared the crap out of him. However, he just swallowed that fear and pushed forward. He had a few questions he wanted to ask and he really wanted to talk to JARVIS.

Getting to the lab, Peter turned on the mainframe.

"Welcome back, Mr. Parker," JARVIS's voice greeted.

Peter felt a small laugh escape him, "It's actually really good to hear from you, JARVIS."

"Are you doing alright? Your vitals indicate that you're in distress," JARVIS asked, his voice somehow managing to be come off as worried.

Peter waved off the AI's concern, as if JARVIS could actually see him. "I wanted to ask you a few questions, actually."

"Ask away, I'm happy to help," JARVIS replied.

"Do you have any information that may regard a Ben Parker?" Peter began.

"There's no records of a Ben Parker," JARVIS answered.

Peter bit his lip, trying not to feel too disappointed. "What about Tony Stark?"

"Records indicate that there is no existence of a Tony Stark either, Mr. Parker."

Peter threw up his hands in frustration. Of course he knew that would be the answer he'd receive, but to have it confirmed was so disappointing. He thanked JARVIS, turned off the mainframe and walked out of the building. He had to find answers, he just had to. And if he didn't... Well, then Peter might actually accept the possibility that he was going insane.

* * *

 **Okay, confession, not totally fond of this chapter. I could've done better, but I had to find away to set things in stone without dragging things on too long.**

 **Anyways, don't hate on MJ, I did that for a reason, and you'll see why in the future.**

 **Peter's side will pick up very soon now that I got this chapter out of the way.**

 **Was it good? Was it bad? Feel free to let me know!**


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